


[dis]like

by the perfume prince (defectiveHeroine)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defectiveHeroine/pseuds/the%20perfume%20prince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean doesn't like a lot of things.</p><p>Eren, for example.</p><p>Jean also doesn't understand a lot of things.</p><p>Why he really doesn't dislike Eren that much, for example.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[dis]like

**Author's Note:**

> ayoooo
> 
> there needs to be more Jean/Eren out there so here we goooooooo!
> 
> written partly for Line, who also gave me some inspiration for this one <3
> 
> it's pretty short, but i'm really fucking tired and i'm dealing with a huge writer's block so i'm just happy i could write something at all 8(((

Jean did not like Armin.

He didn’t like the way the blonde boy always walked so close to Eren, and he didn’t like the way they were so utterly comfortable around each other. 

Jean did also not like himself.

He didn’t like the way he would find himself getting worked up over Armin’s closeness to Eren, and he didn’t like the way his eyes would linger whenever his gaze swept past the brunette. 

Jean wasn’t sure when his hatred for the brat evolved into something else, and he sure as hell wasn’t sure of what this “something else” was. It bothered him. It bothered him a fucking lot. 

The way Eren’s hips moved while using the 3D manoeuvre gear, the way his face scrunched up and his forehead wrinkled when he got pissed or concentrated, and how his belts would strain around his thighs, and how all of the above once made him lose concentration and smack straight into a tree during training; it bothered him. 

And he just had no fucking clue. What exactly was it all? What the hell would he do about it? And why the fuck did Armin just place his fucking hand on Eren’s scrawny fucking shoulder.

He could feel the anger raise within him, all the way up to his ears as it blocked out the sound of people eating and talking. He was mad at the way Armin touched Eren, and he was mad at himself for reacting this way. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? 

He felt his muscles moving, without a clue about what he was doing. He felt his feet smack repeatedly at the ground. He saw Eren’s figure getting closer by each step. 

“Get up, Jaeger” he hissed between clenched teeth as he grabbed the hem of Eren’s shirt, not once stopping in his tracks and thus pulling the shorter boy up and after him as he went. The brunette stumbled after him, trying to pry away the taller boys grip on his clothing and spluttering questioning words and swears. 

“What the fuck, Jean!” Eren yelled as he was thrown against the outer wall of the boy’s sleeping barracks. 

Jean merely stared at him. After all, he had no idea “what the fuck” he was doing either.

“Well, can you at least tell me why you fucking dragged me all the way out here and almost ripped my shirt?” Eren hissed as he got no answer, staring Jean blank in the eye.

Jean finally managed to revert his gaze elsewhere, a tint of pink spreading over his cheekbones. 

“I don’t know,” he muttered after a few seconds of silence.

Silence fell once again, and all Jean could feel was embarrassment. Jesus fucking Christ, he must really be retarded or something. Why the fuck did he do this? Well, fuck, he had no fucking idea now did he? 

“Whatever, I’m going back,” Eren began pushing off the wall but hardly managed to take another step before he was abruptly pushed back. “Jesus, Jean…” He sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Jean stared down at his hands, promptly placed on Eren’s shoulders while pressing the shorter boy firmly against the wall. Why the fuck had he done that, now again?

“Seriously, Jean, just tell me what the fuck you want and let me g-“ Eren began but was cut off by Jean’s angry hiss.

“Shut up, Jaeger,” and then he found his lips crashing onto Eren’s. 

Eren’s lips were not soft. They were chapped and in some places adorned with cuts earned from hard training. Jean found himself thinking that he liked the roughness of Eren’s lips. 

He felt Eren’s hands push at his chest, and reluctantly withdrew from the other’s lips. 

For a second there was nothing but an awkward stare between them, before Jean felt Eren’s hands tangle into his hair and pull him closer once again. 

Eren’s hands weren’t soft either. They were rough and covered in wounds and bruises, much like Jean’s. They also didn’t handle Jean with care; they tugged hard and pulled on his hair as Eren’s mouth pressed firmly against his. 

Jean hesitantly let his hands travel further down Eren’s body, stroking his back, caressing his belly and lingering on his hips. The skin on Eren’s stomach were surprisingly soft, not yet scarred due to lack of real battle but effectively bruised from rough training. 

Then he felt the tongue slip past his lips, and he eagerly agreed to meet it. 

His mind was foggy, clouded and unclear. He didn’t think, just did and complied. Not once did he consider his actions, or the fact that he had literally no idea what he was doing. 

That is, until he felt chapped lips bite down on his neck, sucking and lapping at the raw skin and he felt his mind snap open. 

He hurried to untangle himself from the other boy, scrambled backwards and ended up falling on his butt. He wore a dazed look; cheeks pink and eyes dark and filled to the brim with confusion. 

“I’m sorry!” he blurted before he could stop himself. 

Eren stared at him for a while before answering, oddly hesitantly;

“It… It’s cool”

They ended up staring at each other for another moment, and Jean found himself drowning in self hatred as well as thoughts of good Eren looked. 

He watched as Eren made his way over to where he sat slumped, and crouched beside him.

“So, uh… Are you mad?” he asked. Eren took his time observing before answering.

“Nah. It’s cool,” his lips twisted into a smirk, and Jean felt himself return that smirk before he was straddled by the other boy. 

-

Jean did not like Eren.

He didn’t like the way he left hickey’s wherever he could, and he didn’t like the way he would smile whenever people would question the red marks. 

Jean also did not like Eren’s biting habit. 

He didn’t like the way Eren would make him moan with just a tug at his lower lip, and he didn’t like the way Eren would smirk and tug a little harder as the moaning reached his ears. 

Jean wasn’t sure why he kept telling himself this. After all, the flurry of red marks across his neck and the kisses they shared said otherwise. And actually, it didn’t bother him that much.


End file.
